The Missing Black
by Lilystar- Robinfur
Summary: Opheila Anderson thinks she is the only daughter of Maxine and Harold Anderson, but everything she thought is wroung. She is thrust into a world of magic and mystery and finds out the real history of her past. First fanfiction. Rated T for some langage.
1. Proluge

Progluge

October 31st, 1981

Remus Lupin strode down the narrow avenue of houses, face a mask of shock and confusion. His heart was full of rage, sadness, and complete shock at the night's events. He still couldn't believe it, the horrible news he had recieved just a few miniutes ago. His face was harried, those grim scars even more twisted in the moonlight. Young children had cleared the streets, for the Halloween night had ended for them a few hours ago. Only a few teenagers whose painted eyes fixed on the young man, dressed in robes and so scarred, as nothing more then another reveler on Hallow's Eve. Remus wished he was, unaware of the tradgedy that had just occured. But he had a duty now, a job he was dreading in his already heavy heart. Striding up to a small brick house, the creamy light still on in the living room. Again a glimmer of doubt struck in his heart, but the memory of Dumbledore's face was in the sandy haired man's mind. _"Remus, she ought to know. This concerns her and her child's welfare, due to his actions. If the wizarding world knew the truth, I fear for the child. Your the only one she has left, losing four in one day." _

Sighing heavily, Remus Lupin knocked on the wooden door, which was immeidatly opened. The woman standing there was beautiful, with soft billowy brown hair that fell around her heart shaped face in waves. Her eyes with a startling brown, the kind that semed to stare into your soul, read your emotions. She was small, fragile somehow, but her face had the type of strength you saw in some, the moral fiber and bravery she had was etched on her face. Anna Engel smiled the moment she laid eyes on Remus, opening the door more, those doe eyes bright, unaware of the event. "Remus, do come in! I just put Opheila to bed."

"Thanks Anna." said Remus wearily, the regret rising up like a monster inside him as Anna led him into the cozy living room. He sat down on a armchair, while Anna sat on the threadbare couch. Again he wondered how he could tell he could tell her that her entire life had been destroyed. How he could tell his friend that-

"Anna, Lily and James are dead." He said sadly, avoiding her eyes.

"What? You must be playing with me." Anna said nervously, seeing the pain written on his face. "No, they couldn't be...right?"

"Anna, You Know Who came and he killed them. I-I-I'm so sorry. It just happened a few hours ago." Remus said, reaching over to pat the young woman on her shoulder. "But he's gone Anna. Diasspered, destroyed, forever. And Harry lived. He saved us all. I don't know how though...something about him stopped him." That was the truth, but he hated to have to tell her so bluntly. Anna was his friend, after all.

Anna looked at him, eyes filling up with tears. Lily had been one of her close friends, along with James. But the bombshell he was about to tell her was sure to only upp the pain. "But how? How did he get in? I thought Sirius...no." She said horrified, standing up to her full height of 5'3". "No, no, NO." She grabbed her thick hair, knotting her tan fingers through it, looking as if she was being tortured.

Remus had seen terrible things, but seeing Anna like this almost made him want to kill Sirius all over again. If only that night was a full moon...he could have ripped him to shreds. And he was the one not trusting him! Trying to supress the anger boiling inside him, all 21 years of sorrow of his life coming down to this moment. "He betrayed them. H-h-he betrayed Lily and James to Voldermort. He tried to escape and Peter tried to stop him. But, he was too strong. He blew up the entire street and killed Peter, along with thirteen others." For a moment he resented Dumbledore for having to tell Anna this.

Anna looked as if she had been shot. Most women would have fainted at the news, but she only looked stronger then before. Her dark brown eyes were brimming with tears and betryal, but yet she looked almost serene, accepting. But when she spoke again, her voice didn't sound like hers, it sounded hollow, broken. Remus felt a twinge of pity as she spoke.

"Remus...Dumbledore sent you didn't he? To tell me I should send Opheila away? Because's she's Sirius's daughter? Because he knocked me up three and an half years ago and I've had to live with the regret? I never loved him. EVER."

Remus flinched, but knew she was lying. This was how she dealt with things; she went into denial. Said she regretted having Opehila, saying she 'regretted' everything. If Remus wasn't so weary, he would argue with her, but he didn't. Instead he just nodded. "Yes."

"Then take her." Anna said, before sitting back down on the couch.

She rolled over to the face the woolen cushions and didn't say a word. Only the sharp sobs that escaped her broke the silence. Remus stood up to try to get her up, but she turned to him, eyes bloodshot, face cold. "Go. Take her to precious little home you filithy werewolf, or I'll curse you." she said calmly.

"Anna, you don't know what you-" Remus began, before being cut off.

"YES I DAMN WELL AS DO!" exclaimed the brunette witch, rising to her feet. Her wand was held aloft, doe eyes murderous. "I will not take care of the that _bastard _child anymore. Wipe her memories, adopt her out. I don't give a shit and neither does Sirius. He's in Azkban right now, if you haven't noticed!"

Remus Lupin looked aghast. "Anna-"

"You listen to me, Lupin! Take her away! Or I will kill her! I swear to Lily and Jame's grave!" The women voice was rising now as the tip of her wand glowed.

Remus faltered, before clenching his fists and complying. "Fine. I will. But she won't remember you. And she will never see you again." _I'll make sure of it._

Anna's eyes were blank. "That's perfect. I don't care." With that, she laid back down.

And the Last Black would never be the same.

****

(This is quite bad, but it's only a proluge I say lol. My first fanfiction, so enjoy! R&R please!)


	2. Chapter 1

_Eight years later_

In the upperclass neighbood of Belgravia in London, it wasn't unusual to see prep school students walking down the polished lane of Wilton Crescent, plaid skirts swinging around their legs and ties fluttering in the breeze. Most of the adults were still at their various respectable workplaces, so the curved road was almost empty minius the various empty vechiles parked in front of the white stucco homes. The roar of the cars on the nearby road jolted the silence as the three girls walked down the road, giggles echoing of the elegant townhomes.

"Opheila, what did Max say to you? Come on, tell me! _What did he say?" _said the first girl, a plump blonde girl with pigtails and pink cheeks. She grabbed the other girl's arm, a redheaded youth with a splay of freckles across her nose. The two girls glanced at the young lady in question with bated breath.

"He said he thought you were cute Alice, nothing more!" Opheila Anderson said simply, quite in awe to be even in the same street radius as Alice Caro and Marianna Barton, one of the two most popular girls in her school, St. Gabriels Primary School. It wasn't that Opheila wasn't liked, she had a group of friends and such, but to be in the company of both Alice and Marianna. But the entire day had been crazy enough as it was, the last day of term and the start of the summer. The walk home had been eventful, some kids being picked up almost insantly by their privelged parents to be cheffered off to Paris or China or America for a vaction or spilling down the steps, yelling like banshees. So imagine her suprise when walking across Chester Square to be stopped by them, demanding to know of every little bit of her conversation with her friend Max, who Alice just so happened to like. _Thanks a lot Cassie, for honoring my wishes and all._ Opehila thought sarcastilly as the two girls looked eachother and squealed.

"Thanks Ophie! Your the best!" exclaimed Alice, who linked arms with Marianna and began jumping and down, their loud shrieks piercing the afternoon stillness.

Wincing, Opheila smiled and walked up to her house, 42 Wilton Cresent and sent a fleeting smile to the two girls, who were now skipping down the street. 'Bye!" she said, waving fleetingly, before turning the door and entering the foyer. The moment she closed the door and dropped her bookbag to the floor, she was almost insantly attacked by the Anderson's german shepherd, Bear. The dog leaped on the 11 year old girl's chest, who barked and licked her over. Petting the black dog, she shouted loudly.

'Mom, Dad, I'm home!"

Almost immediatly, a slim women in a black pantsuit appeared, her black framed glasses slightly askew from her dash. Maxine Anderson smiled widely at her daughter, who see hugged, while Bear countined to lick Opheila profoundly. Maxine looked nothing like her daughter, which was strange really, being she looked nothing like her father either, who had kust apperaded behind Maxine, holding the newspaper in his hand. Maxine was thin and elegant, with short blonde hair and dark blue eyes that contrasted with her pale skin. She didn't look like she was thirty nine, now didn't she? Her father, Harold Anderson was a large man, a banker at a predigous inustion in downtown Westminster. He had balding black hair and squinty molesque eyes, but he had a great heart and when he wasn't working, worked at various charties. Opheila however, was tall and graceful, with elbow length black hair and gray eyes. Her personality however, was far from the ballerina like look, for she spent most of her time as a child playing in the mud and riding horses bareback on her grandparent's farm. She had grown up like any privelged child in London, went on holiday to places like Norway and Indonesia, was schooled at some of the best primary schools in the city, and shopped with her mother on Sloan Street. But yet, odd things followed the girl. One day when she was dreadfully sick with the flu, she had made a glass of water fly into her open bedroom door and land in her hand without spilling. Once, when she and Cassie were playing in the street, a speeding car nearly ran her over, but when she opened her eyes, the car had been thrown halfway down the road, without a scratch.

The queerest thing of all that followed Opheila Rosemary Anderson's life was that she couldn't remember anything up from her forth birthday. Most chldren, even with the worst of memories had something, anything from those four years but she had none. It was if a windsheild wiper had swept across her mind, erasing everything. But she didn't dwell on that faction and lived her life blissfully, unaware of what was about to happen that night.

Three hours later, the Anderson's had sat down for supper, dusk falling across the country, lights of the cars illuminating windows as they passed. Opehila twirled her fork around the spaggeti and meatballs, feeling odd. Her mother wasn't a good cook, but it wasn't the taste that was off. For some reason, the dark haired tween always fekt queer when she thought something wasn't right, and was usually correct on these assumptions. Her parents didn't notice their daughter was picking scantily at her meal and she was just about to ask to be excused when the doorbell rang.

"Who could be knocking at this time of night?" said Harold speticlly, removing his glasses and rubbing his tired eyes.

Maxine shrugged and turned to her daughter. "Ophie, do you mind getting the door?" she asked.

Opehila sighed and walked down one flight of steps (the dining room was upstairs) and peered out the peephole to the lit porch. A woman was standing there, someone who looked vaguely familar, but also suprisnly unique as well. Her iron gray hair was wild and curly, looking as if she had stuck her finger into a socket. Her face was wrinkled and wear, but in her dark brown eyes their was a youthful twinkle, mouth curved into a large smile. The women's clothes were just as odd as her apperance, a long magenta cloak over bright pink robes. Blinking, the dark haired girl opened the door to the weird lady, who smile only enlarged as she exclaimed.

"Opehila! My, how have you grown!" exclaimed the lady, holding a yellowed letter in her gnarled hand and a large smile that lit up her anicent face. Opheila gaped at the woman as she waved to her shocked parents, who had been walking down the staircase to see what the matter. Seeing the frizzy haired, robe wearing lady made her usually loud mother speechless and her father managed to squeak at the sight of the exburant visitor.

"Er hello." said Harold, rubbing his balding head earnestly.

"'Ello!" the old woman said, looking postively excitied. "Nice house you got here."

"Thank you." squeaked Maxine, adjusting her glasses to see if this strange characater was acutally real and not just an mirage.

Opheila glanced at her stunned parents and turned to the elder female, before confideintly asking. "Who are you?"

"Elenor Engel, but call me Ele. Or Elenor. Or Mrs. Engel. Or Granny, for that matter." beamed Elenor, before suggesting that they move to the parlor. Opheila's parents followed Elenor into the elegant room, while she stood in the hall, as Bear raced down the stairs to meet the new visitor.

Today was getting stranger and stranger.

**( Ugh, this is bad. I ran out of words for Elenor, so I used woman and lady like a billion times. I'm very unimagtive lol. So, R&R and enjoy! btw, my computer's spellcheck is acting up, so their might be some spelling errors.)**


	3. Chapter 2

**( Thanks everyone who read and rated this, your support keeps me going! I don't know right now if this is going to be just in her first year, or it's going to cut to her third or fourth year, or I'll just write seven stories (like HP series) about the years. The point is, she won't know who her dad is, all she'll know is who her mother is. Only Remus, some various members of the Order, Elenor, and Dumbledore (and the parents lol) know the truth. She knows she's a Black however, but she'll assume she's Regulus's daughter)**

Opheila was still standing in the hall, shocked at the sight of Elenor. This woman told her to call her 'Grandmother', which quite frank made no sense. One reason was she knew both of her grandparents quite well, and neither of them was Elenor Engel. Nor did they wear robes of shocking pink with a gigantic green tophat over iron gray curls, that was sure. And none of them wore two mismatched boots. So, inderclous, she followed the three older people into the large living room, dark brown eyes still fixed on Elenor, who was had taken off the ridiclous hat and was sitting on the silk couch. Her mother, Maxine was holding a glass of wine and sipping it, eyes still wide as saucers of the strange lady. Her father however, looked remotely at ease, almost if he knew the woman from somewhere, which was queer. Not that he didn't look extremly nervous, but he was no longer hypervenliating. Opheila sat down on a chair, twirling a piece of sleek black hair out of the messy chignon. That had always been a habit of hers, something that was nearly impossible to break. A moment of awkard silence ensued, before Elenor handed the letter to Opehila and said.

"Read it honey, then I'll explain." Elenor said, as her parent's exchanged spetical looks.

Glancing down at the heavy yellow parchment, it was adressed plainly on the front in slanting emerled green writing.

_Miss Opheila Anderson_

_20 Wilton Crescent_

_Belgravia_

_London, England_

Turning over the letter, taking in the ornate seal, emblazed with a badger, snake, lion, and a raven surronding a letter H. Usually you only saw seals like this from letters from the british throne or various other royatly. Why was it addressed to her? So plainly, not even a Opheila and Family. Just her. So in a nervous state that was not characteristic of her, she opened the letter to revel two pieces of the same yellow paper fall out. She picked up the first one and gasped.

_HOGWARTS SCHOOL  
of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY_

Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore  
(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock,  
Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards)

Dear Miss Anderson,

We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment.  
Term begins on September 1. We await your owl by no later than July 31.

Yours sincerely,

Minerva McGonagall  
Deputy Headmistress*

She looked up at Elenor, face as mask of shock. Her, a witch? That was impossbile! Her, accepted into this 'Hogwarts'? Owls? What do they mean by that? So many questions were in her head as she looked up at the gray haired woman, who smiled welcomigly. "Well, I guess I have some explaing to do." she said, as she gently took the letter from Opheila's olive toned hands, to hand to her parents, who both gasped in turn.

"Opehila, I guess I should start from the beginning. You were born to a witch, my only daughter, Anna. Your mother, my daughter...well she had some issues. After a great tradegy that occured, she gave you up. A good friend of hers wiped your memories, for they feared you would remember to much. You see, it was a dangerous time back then. Anna had been thinking about this for long, and eventally, after Lily and James, she just couldn't deal. So you were given to Harold, who just so happens to be my nephew and Maxine, who graciously and kindly adopted you. As I can see by their shocked reactions." she said slyly, turning to the two shellshocked guardians. "Were not told that you were a witch. But your name has been down since you were born, so it was indneviable. But don't worry, your not too behind!"

"Aunt Elenor, are you sure? I mean, I know you and Uncle Betram and Anna and my mum were all..er...magical. But...I swear that she showed no er...signs." said Harold nervously, rubbing his eyes at Opheila as if she was a mirage.

"Sorry dear, but all the odd little quirks she pocesses all are signs of magic." Elenor said brightly, patting the middle aged man on the shoulder, before turning to the black haired tween who was still staring indreclously at the letter in her blonde mo- guardians hand. "Now, your cousin Harold here was a Squib- basically non magical but born to a wizarding family and knew about the wizarding world. But sadly, he was obviously deaf to the signs.."

"Hey! I haven't seen any hide or hair of any magic since last time Anna...well, last I saw her." He said afronted

"But..if this is really Anna's child, then if her mother was a muggle, then couldn-" Maxine spoke at last, looking around like a trapped shrew.

"Her father is a Black, one of the brothers, I'm sure. I could be wroung however, since I never saw Anna since before Opheila was born." said Elenor sadly.

Opheila couldn't take it. "Alright, let me get this straight." She said, looking around at the three conversing adults. "Your saying, my mom and dad, whoever he is, are magic? And I'm a witch?"

"Yes." said Elenor sagely, patting down her structured curls.

"Okay...so who are the Blacks? Why wasn't I told why I was adopted? What's Hogwarts?" she said stubbornly, folding her arms over her chest.

"The Blacks are an pureblood wizarding family. They were famous for being...what's the world? Ah yes, inbreeding to assure the status of their blood. Their exstint however in the male line, but a few of the girls are still alive." But Elenor's voice grew hard. "Wait, I forgot Sirius. But he's better off dead, where he is."

"Where's that?" asked Opheila.

"Azkaban. The wizarding prison. Bad place where very _bad _wizards go." she said shortly, cheery voice fading.

"Oh." Opheila said softly, feeling as if a cold chill had covered the room.

"Opheila, it's time for bed." Maxine said, looking pitily at her once daughter. "We need to talk to this woman for a while. Please?"

Opheila stood up, feeling sick to her stomach. "Your not my mother."


End file.
